


Pawn In The Play Prt. 2

by Wendibros_in_crime



Series: Pawn in The Play [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wendibros_in_crime/pseuds/Wendibros_in_crime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco cared; he always cared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pawn In The Play Prt. 2

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my ff.net account

I remember when I first met you. You were standing there awkwardly in the shop looking confused and lost. Your deep pools of green widen with excitement at each small thing you see. Looking over at me, I did my best to keep my composure. A look of disgust covers my features, you frown and leave the shop.

The next time I see you, you were with that blood traitor. And when you declined my friendship, I used all my strength not to scream. Over the years, I begin to realize the only way I'll your attention. You leave me no choice but to ridicule and tease you. I use all my ability to make your life as miserable as you did that one time. No one ever declines me. EVER!

But I've been watching you grow over the years. Your lanky body begins to shape and form. Your tousled midnight hair gets more tousled if possible. I ache to run my pale fingers through it, clasp it in my hands as you worship my body. You're beautiful, so damn beautiful. Your eyes. Oh Merlin how I love them.

Your emerald eyes glisten with tears caused by me. The pain I make you suffer, brings pain to me. What am I doing? I don't hate you, I never could. I was raised this way but, I don't want to do this. I don't know any other way.

I notice the small things now; when you're upset and in pain. Your friends laugh as if they can't see it. You never smile; plush, pink, kissable lips downturned in a frown. Your once jewels of eyes are now lifeless and dull. I can't imagine all the suffering you must face. I wish I could face it with you.

I think and think. I listen and listen. Mother tells me not to fret, I can't help it. I don't want to lose you. I desperately seek your gaze in the hall, as you walk aimlessly around in thought.

Each night I watch you disappear to the lake's shore. What do you do? Do you think? Do you watch? Do you weep? I begin to follow you. Listen to you talk to the glorious moon. As if she'll answer you. One night, this night, I see the pain at its greatest. I see the blade. I see you staring at if it's your friend. I see the moon's light shining off of it with shaking hands.

Horror strikes me as you drag it across your beautiful, tan skin, marking the glorious flesh. I can't move. I sit there in frozen silence as the rivers of red follow down your skin and hit the earth with pitter and patter sounds. One drop after another.

Your body makes the movements of shutting down; dying. You fall. Lay there in your misery. I have to save you before it's too late. I snap up and run towards you. It's too late; your breathing stopped. I fall to my knees and lift you into my arms, careful to not harm you. Blood just now dribbles from your body.

I sob harshly and shudder with the thought of not having you in my life. Grasping my wand with shuddering hands, I place it to my temple and utter those forbidden words. My body lurches forward, collapsing on top of yours. We didn't mean anything in this world. We were just pawns in the play.


End file.
